


Guns of Grace

by mrs_squirrel_chester



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Bobby Singer / Jody Mills - Freeform, Dean Winchester / Original Female Character - Freeform, Dean Winchester NSFW, Dean Winchester Smut, F/M, Family, Female Friendship, Friendship, Hurt/Comfort, Love, Male-Female Friendship, NSFW, Original Female Character nsfw, Original Female Character smut, Sam Winchester / Sarah Blake - Freeform, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-05
Updated: 2015-03-06
Packaged: 2018-03-16 11:58:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 19,133
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3487442
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mrs_squirrel_chester/pseuds/mrs_squirrel_chester
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prostitutes are turning up dead, their bodies raped and brutalized. Is it a copycat to a serial killer from 1888? OFC / Dean & Sarah Blake / Sam & Jody Mills / Bobby Singer. Rated M for borderline explicit sexual situation(s), mild language and violence.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Guns of Grace

As soon as I step into the house, the heavenly aroma of dinner assaults me. Sarah is singing softly as she keeps a watchful eye on the boiling pot of pasta while a chicken Alfredo sauce simmers on the back burner. My son is occupied with some toys in his playpen and doesn’t notice me at first, not until I’m next to the playpen does he notice me. He lifts his bright green eyes and lets loose a squeal of pure joy. The toys forgotten, he works to pull himself up on wobbly legs. Pudgy fingers reach for me and bury in my hair as I hold him close, breathing him in with a deep pull.

“Hello, my love. Mommy missed you today.” I hate leaving him, but as a working mother, it’s what I have to do. At least I don’t have to pay the outrageous day care fees. I have a friend that I trust with my life that watches over him every day.

Sarah had given a gasp at the high pitched squeal. Dark brown eyes meet mine as she whirls. “That’s the most noise he’s made all day!”

I can’t help but laugh. “He was saving it for me. Weren’t you?” I smother him in kisses and nuzzle into the spot I know is the most ticklish. Johnathan’s body bucks as he giggles and tries to wriggle away from me. I straighten from the tickle fest and prop him on my hip, accepting the cold beer handed to me.

“Have you heard from them?”

Sarah shakes her head and turns her attention to the almost done dinner. “Not since last night. Sam said they should be headed back by tomorrow morning.” She grunts softly and a hand falls to her swollen stomach.

I come up beside her and place my hand where hers just was. “Busy day?”

“You could say that. She must know her daddy’s coming home soon.” Sarah is 5 months pregnant, the test showed positive the week after Johnathan and I were pulled out of Hell.

The pressure of the baby moving under my palm brings a smile to my face. “You know, if it’s getting to be too much with Johnny, we can figure something else out.”

The burners are turned off and steam billows from the sink as Sarah strains the pasta. “Don’t you dare threaten me, Ren. You know I love watching him.” She turns and stares hard at me, the steam coloring her cheeks a rosy pink.

“I know you do, hon. Just promise me that you aren’t overdoing it.”

“I promise, mom.” She shoots a wink at me before pulling the garlic bread from the oven.

We sit down to eat and share how our days went. Mine, full of death and blood while hers was full of tears and laughter. Johnathan was trying to crawl, but he never made it very far before spilling over in a tangle of limbs and toys.

I swallow a particularly delicious chunk of chicken. “Hey, you hear anything from Bobby or Jody?”

Sarah sits back and places her hands on her stomach, full of food and a growing Winchester. “Jody called last week, wanted to see when they could come out.”

“Hmmm.” Something was tugging at me, but I couldn’t put a finger on it.

“Why do you ask?”

“I don’t know. When they were out last month they seemed a little-”

“Like they were hiding something?”

“Yes! At least I’m not the only one. Dean says that nothing’s going on.”

Sarah rolls her eyes and reaches down to pick up some discarded cheerios. Johnathan smiles wide and shoves them in his mouth. “What does he know?”

I all but lick my plate clean and when Johnathan starts to fuss. When Sarah moves to grab him., I scold her playfully, “Uh uh, you go and put your feet up.”

“But-”

“But nothing, Sarah. You cooked and watched my son all day. The least I can do is clean up.”

Sarah opens her mouth with a sarcastic comment on the tip of her tongue, but I silence her with a hand. “Sarah Blake, you march up those stairs and take a bath or something. I mean it.”

Sarah narrows her eyes at me as she pushes away from the table and plants a kiss on the soft head of my son. She whispers against his cheek before her lips capture the plump skin and a loud smack all but echoes in the room. We share a smile before throws me a mock salute and does her best impression of a soldier marching out of the room and up the stairs.

The kitchen can wait for now, my son however, cannot. I wash his hands and face before I slip the bib off and wrap him in my arms. Upstairs, I get the bath ready and lower his naked form into the warm bubbly water full of his favorite bath toys. He squeals and laughs and splashes water all over the floor, but I don’t complain. I thought I would never have a child of my own and here I was, a mother to a rambunctious and smart 5 month old son. After a fit of tears while I washed his hair, we emerge from the bathroom. He is wrapped in a fluffy grey towel with a corner shaped like an elephant head, giggling and cooing while trying to pull the towel off his head.

We end the evening in the rocking chair. I hold a bottle for him, his hands wrapped around mine while we rock and I sing softly. Dean had told me his mother used to sing Hey Jude when he was a baby so naturally, I started singing it to Johnathan. He empties the bottle quickly, so I move him into a curled up position against my chest, we’re both more comfortable this way, and he’s easy to burp. I nestle my nose against the top of his head before I press a kiss to his forehead. He’s tired and fighting sleep as I sing against his cheek, but it’s not long before he burps and gives in, his body growing limp as sleep overtakes him. I watch him sleep and wonder just how I got so lucky. Yes, his dad is gone more than I want him to be, but I wouldn’t trade any of it.

With one final kiss to his temple, I set him in his crib and creep out of the room. Before I lumber down the stairs, I poke my head in the room Sarah and Sam share. She is curled around a body pillow with a hand resting on the side her baby navigates toward. Long raven hair is spread all around her like a halo.

I tiptoe to the bed and reach behind Sarah and work the yellow and white plaid sheet and matching comforter over her. With a sigh, she nestles against her pillow. I yawn loudly just as I close her door and listen in fear that I’ve woken someone from their sleep. When no sounds of protest are heard, I make my way down and back into the kitchen. There isn’t a lot to clean up since it was only Sarah and me that ate. Two Tupperware containers are full of leftovers and the dishes are placed into the dishwasher.

The sounds of water running follow me onto the back porch where I watch the beast that protects my land, my house, and my family; Mithra. Her eyes meet mine and she gives a howl that would set any normal person’s nerves on end, but not mine. I rush out to the edge of the property that she cannot cross and wrap my arms around her neck.

I breathe her in and smile against her thick fur at the pressure of her head against my back. “I missed you, too. Where’ve you been, huh?”

Mithra huffs loudly against my back.

I pull away, but leave my fingers threaded through her fur. Her bright eyes are wide and sad. “Everything ok?”

Her giant head twitches to the left, no. I chew at my bottom lip as worry fills me.

Last year, there had been a handful of beasts left. Now, it was Mithra, Ember and Dusk. Ember had joined us several months ago, but Dusk had a harder time getting away from his master. “He didn’t make it, did he?”

As if on cue, Ember appears behind Mithra and whines low in her throat.

I hold my hand out of her. Her muzzle pushes up against my open palm and I squeeze gently before my hand travels between her eyes and up behind her ear, scratching through the thick, matted fur. Mithra scoots out of the way and I envelope as much of the beast in my arms as I can. She smells of blood, fire, and dirt. It must have been one hell of a fight.

When Ember is done allowing me to comfort her, she stands tall and turns her attention to the forest; it’s time for them to eat. Mithra’s tongue just about wraps around my hand as she says her goodbye and the ground shakes as they took off through the trees.

Deep down I pray that nothing will happen to them. I’m not sure how I would handle it if they were to die.

* * *

It’s late when I emerge from the shower. I work a towel through my hair before I comb the snarls free. I slide into a pair of black panties and one of Dean’s t-shirts that he said needed to be washed. It smells just like him; sweat, gunpowder, oil, and that underlying scent of masculinity that only he smells like.

As if on cue, my phone starts to ring. I answer it quickly, trying not to sound too anxious. “Hey, you.”

A deep throated chuckle greets me. “Hey, yourself. It’s not too late is it?”

I push the blankets back and make sure the baby monitor is turned on. “It’s never too late, you know that.”

“There have been times that it’s been too late.”

“You know the rule, Winchester, you call me every night.” I can picture the smile that’s pulling at his lips when he sighs softly. “When are you coming home?”

“We just wrapped up a couple of hours ago. Just need some sleep and we should have Cedar Rapids in our rear view by morning.”

Any worry I had about the case was dissolves almost instantly. “Everything go ok?”

“Just your normal salt and burn.” I sigh softly as I close my eyes, they’re suddenly very heavy.

“You sound tired, babe.”

“I am. It’s been a long couple of days.” I manage to stifle a yawn that takes me by surprise.

Dean laughs softly. “How’s Johnny?”

“He misses his daddy.”

“I miss him, too. Did you give him a kiss for me?”

“I always do.” I curl into my pillow and feel myself start to drift off.

“Get some sleep, babe. I love you.”

“I love you, too. Come home.”

“I’ll be there before you know it.”

“You better be.” With another I love you and a goodnight, I disconnect the call and fall into a dream of Dean.


	2. One More Makes Four

Ian is waiting for me the next morning.Steam billows from a large caramel white chocolate mocha as it sits on my desk. He turns from the wall where I had hung pictures of my newly extended family.

“Morning, Doc.”

We press a kiss to each other’s cheeks as I pass. “Good morning. You’re here awfully early, Irish.”

He cringes at the nickname Dean had started, and whether Ian wanted it to or not, it sort of stuck. “What? I can’t stop by and see my favorite pathologist?” His accented speech is thick with sarcasm and something else. Dread?

I blow on the hot drink and look up at him through my lashes. “We’ve known each other how long and you think I don’t know when you want something?”

Ian shrugs as a hand dives through his raven hair. Strands of grey have started coloring his sideburns. “They found another body this morning.”

Sighing heavily, I fall back against my chair, his gift of coffee almost forgotten. I know the answer but I ask anyway as I rub at the bridge of my nose. “Where?”

“Same place as the other two, close to the white chapel off Berner Street.” Ian drops into the chair across from me, mirroring my position. “Ren, we need to know if we’re dealing with a serial.“

"I’ll make her a priority.”

“Thanks. Can you call me once you know anything? They’re breathing down my neck and they want an answer, yesterday.”

I can’t help but roll my eyes. No one seems to care about prostitutes until they turn up dead, throats slashed and their stomachs torn apart. “I’ll call you, ok?” Little else is said before Ian leaves, another promise that I’ll call him and he’s out the door.

With a shake of my head, I read over the police report and examine the pictures provided to me by CSU. Three dead prostitutes in the last two months. I shudder as I finish my coffee, though it does little to warm me up.

“I swear, if this is anything other than a crazy person, I’ll shoot someone.” Part of me is joking, but the other part can’t handle another supernatural occurrence in my town.

* * *

A gurney and two paramedics are waiting for me when I emerge from my office. I sign the stack of papers before they relinquish the dead woman to me and it takes me almost an hour to get everything ready for the standard autopsy.

With my face shield firmly in place, I snap on the recorder, pick up the camera for all documentation, and snap pictures as I talk.

“It is March 1, 2014 at 10:12am. Dr. Hatfield performing the autopsy at the urgent request from Detective McShane. Victim has been identified as Elizabeth Stride, aged 25. She was discovered this morning next to the chapel off Berner Street. Body temp places time of death somewhere between 8pm and 12am last night. Her throat has been slashed. Depth of the cut indicates the blade was drawn left to right. The cut is deep, having severed the left side of the jugular. Almost all of her fingernails are torn and fingertips bruised, indicating she struggled with her attacker. This level of post mortem bruising is typical with self-defense. No other external life threatening injuries to the body. Cause of death appears to be exsanguination.”

The camera is placed to the side before I reach over to the table where my tools lie. I’m just about to slide the blade just under her left shoulder blade when Ian barges in. My stomach drops when he speaks, “They found another one. It’s about five minutes out.”

* * *

Several hours pass before I’ve completed the autopsies and I retreat to my office where I have a full bottle of Johnny Walker Blue waiting for me in my bottom drawer. Normally, I don’t drink until I’m off the clock, but the brutality I’ve seen overrides my sense of duty.

The second body I dissected was much worse than the first.

Where the only wound on Elizabeth was the slashed throat, Catherine Eddowes bore much more. Along with her throat being severed, Catherine’s stomach was all but ripped apart. Her left kidney and most of her uterus had been removed with little injury to the remaining tissue. A note had been made that the assailant could have a medical background.

Ian had wanted to know if they had a serial on their hands. After reviewing the first two case files, I have an answer for him.

He answers in the middle of the second ring, “McShane.”

I sigh heavily after draining my glass. “I’m confirming your suspicions of a serial killer.”

* * *

Johnny sighs heavily against me as we rock. Our usual nighttime ritual is anything but as my mind wanders. A serial killer is slaughtering the women of my town and it is intruding upon my mommy and son bonding time.

I gaze down into his cherub-like face and can’t help but smile when I find his father’s eyes staring up at me. “I’m sorry, baby, mommy’s distracted, huh?”

He snuggles against my chest as a yawn rips out of him. I pat his butt as I work to clear the memory of torn flesh and missing organs from my mind. Focusing on my son and the time we have together, I start to sing and lull him into the sleep his body desperately craves. Once he gives in, dazzling green eyes flutter closed and his body goes limp in my arms. I pull in a deep breath of freshly washed baby before I tuck him in.

* * *

I plop down next to Sarah on the couch and rest my head on her shoulder. She presses her cheek on my head and I can feel her face pull into a smile. “Rough day?”

“Yeah, you could say that.” The files from all four victims are stacked on the table at my feet. Ian asked if I could go over them again, see if there was something I could find that would help solve the case before another woman was found dead.

Sarah taps the stack with her bare foot. “You rarely bring your work home.”

“Special request. Four women have been found in the last two months.”

Sarah sits up suddenly. “Oh no! Do they have any idea who did it?”

I shake my head against her shoulder. “Not one. There’s no DNA, no evidence, nothing. Just the same MO. Female prostitute, 25 – 30, usually sexually assaulted, throat slashed, and the stomach cut open.” I probably shouldn’t be saying any of this, and if it were anyone but Sarah, I probably wouldn’t.

Sarah cringes. “People are sick.”

My eyes fall to Sarah’s stomach where her child has started the nightly routine of somersaults. “You can say that again.”

We sit there, watching and feeling the baby until I notice Sarah has fallen asleep. I gently wake her, and with a tired smile, she lumbers up the stairs. I know why she was really staying up so late, Sam. They were on their way home from a week long hunting trip.

I remember feeling that way whenever the brothers left, more so when I was pregnant. The times Dean and Sam went hunting felt like an eternity and every time they came back, we kissed like we hadn’t seen each other in years. I sigh at the memories before reality comes crashing down. Four dead women are depending on me to help figure out who mutilated them.


	3. Chapter 3

It's late, much later than it should be when I hear the deep throated rumble of an engine roar up the driveway. I quickly gather the pictures and paperwork and shove them into the correct folders before I basically throw them into my bag. I run out the front door and can't help but grin as I watch the headlights grow larger.

Dean barely gets the key out of the engine before I push off the porch. He grunts as I throw myself against him and bury my face in his neck. His skin is warm against my face and I pull in a deep breath. I didn't realize just how much I missed him.

He wraps his arms around me and lifts me off the ground. His voice is thick against my ear. "I missed you too."

Sam chuckles on his way to the house. "Goodnight, you two."

I have a smart ass comment for him, something about Sarah and their reunion, but my lips are busy against Dean's neck and jaw.

There's a moan building in Dean's throat and it vibrates against my neck. "I'm liking this reception."

My lips trail along his jaw and over his chin before they find the scar. "I don't like when you're gone."

Strong hands spread over the small of my back as he leans against the Impala, the driver door still wide open. "I don't like it either."

Our lips connect and it's as if everything around us disappears. We get lost in the way the other feels, tastes and sounds. Hands roam as I wrap my legs around his waist and feel just how much he missed me. The deep ache I have only for him flares to life.

With his hand buried in my hair, he pulls his mouth away. "We should probably go inside if you want to continue this reunion."

I push out my kiss swollen bottom lip as my fingers wander through the short strands of hair on the back of his neck. "Awww, do we have to?"

With one large hand, he pats my bottom before cupping it firmly. "I don't know about you, but I don't really think Mithra and Ember want a show."

I follow his line of sight and see the beasts staring at us, wide eyed. He is right. Maybe not about how the beasts feel but about anyone being around during something so intimate, something meant for only us.

My legs untangle from his hips and I feel all the hardness of him against me as I slide down. My God, how I've missed him.

Dean grabs his duffel and follows me into the house. I know the main reason he follows me and it has something to do with the extra sway in my hips. I hear the locks engage as I wander slowly up to our room.

I'm barely over the threshold when I feel large hands on my hips. He bends down, lavishing my neck with his mouth. Hands pull hard and I'm suddenly curled against him, my shoulders against his chest and my lower back against his groin. The hardness of him strains against his jeans and he moans at the friction my body against his causes.

I turn in his grip and capture his lips in a kiss that lets him know just how much he was missed. Our clothes seem to melt away before we fall onto the bed.

He's gentle as he enters me, taking his time and lowering his head to watch as I envelop him. Green eyes darken as muscles stretch and twitch. With a deep moan, I grab his face and force my mouth against his. It doesn't take long before our hunger sets the pace and we're driving each other to the brink of release.

Dean pulls me against him as he rolls to the side. A steel grip holds me firm as we kiss, long and thorough. When we part, it's only because oxygen is needed. "I might have to go away more often if I'm gonna get this reception."

His eyes sparkle as I swat his arm. "Don't you dare threaten me, Winchester!"

Goosebumps spread like wildfire as his hand roams over my skin. He chuckles low in his throat. "I'm kidding and you know it."

"You better be. It's hard enough when you're gone for a week at a time."

Dean kisses me between the eyes. "I know. Sam and I were talking on the way home."

"Oh? Anything important?"

"We decided to try and keep things close to home. What with Johnathan and Sarah being pregnant. I know it would ease all our minds if we didn't travel across the country."

"It would ease my mind if you stayed home, not close to home."

Dean sighs, his head rests on my neck while his thumb brushes along my jaw. "Babe, you know –"

I can't help it, my eyes roll at his rebuttal. "Yeah, trust me, I know."

Another sigh falls from Dean before his lips press firmly against mine. We've had this fight a million and one times. I don't know why but I had thought that with Johnny, Dean would want to be home with his family all the time.

Dean's kiss becomes harder and more insistent. He hates this fight and just wants me to see things his way but I don't think I ever will.

I give in to his demanding lips and let them have their way with mine, not that I really want to stop him.

I'm breathless when Dean pulls away. "Can we not fight about it tonight? I just want to fall asleep with my girl and see my son in the morning."

Damn, it's like he always knows what to say to make my knees turn to jelly. "That sounds like a good idea."

He reaches behind me for the thin sheet and quilt, smiling when I tangle my legs with his. The heat of our bodies mingle with my exhaustion and I know I'm going to fall asleep before him. Sure enough, his heart against my cheek pulls me into the darkness.


	4. Chapter 4

The sounds of his son babbling softly to himself pulls Dean from a deep sleep. Serenity is still pressed firmly against him, but she must have rolled over since her back is now against his chest. He moves slowly and carefully, pulling on his previously discarded clothing before the bedroom door is pulled closed.

Dean slides his finger along the volume of the monitor in his son's room before he peers over the railing. Giant green eyes meet Dean's half a heartbeat before giggles and excited shrieks fill the small room. "Shhh, shhh, shhh, you're gonna wake everyone up."

Johnathan pulls himself up against the railing and reaches for his father. Chubby fingers latch onto the black shirt as he buries his face in Dean's neck.

Dean chuckles deeply as he holds his excited son. "I missed you too, bub. You take care of your mom like we talked?"

As if on cue, Johnathan leans back, a smile pulling at his toothless mouth. "Of course you did."

Dean exchanges the soaked diaper and moose pajamas for a onesie, a bib for the constant drool and clean diaper. The pair drift downstairs where a bottle is prepared before they hunker down in the corner of the couch.

While Johnathan works at his bottle, Dean just watches his son. Every move and noise he makes, he never knew that this kind of happiness existed. He would fight to the death to protect his family.

Sam's bare feet against the hardwood floor pull at Dean's attention. Sam nods in greeting while he yawns. "Morning." He disappears into the kitchen and it's not long before the smell of coffee filters through the rooms.

Sam hands a large cup to his brother and places a loud kiss against Johnathan's head before he sits down across from the duo.

Johnathan giggles at the sight of his uncle and the almost empty bottle is clearly forgotten.

Dean puts the bottle on the table next to his cup. His large hand raps against his son's back, urging out a burp. "What're you doing up?"

Sam's large shoulder pops up. "You know how it goes."

"Yeah. How's Sarah feeling?"

The corner of Sam's mouth pulls up. "Like she wants this baby out."

"I don't blame her. I mean look at you."

The brothers share a laugh as Johnathan interrupts their conversation with a loud belch. "And he is 100% yours, bro." Sam puts down his cup and holds his arms out for the excited child.

Dean passes off the bundle, picking up his own cup on the way back. "Just wait until he gets some teeth, get some real food in him."

Sam's brows bunch together when someone knocks on the front door, loudly.

Dean shrugs as he heads to the door. He peers out the side window before the locks are disengaged. "Good morning, Irish."

Ian forces a smile but shakes his head, that damn nickname. "Good morning, Dean. How was the hunt?"

Dean steps to the side, allowing Ian access. "Typical salt and burn. What brings you by so early?"

Ian and Sam exchange silent greetings while Johnathan tugs at Sam's hair and babbles incoherently. "I asked Ren to look over the case files for a serial. I wondered if she got anywhere with them."

Dean shakes his head as he shrugs. "She didn't say anything last night. I can get her if you want."

"Please? We haven't seen anything like this and I don't blame people for wanting answers."

Sam nods at Dean. "I got him."

Dean pushes up the stairs and lowers himself onto the bed.

Ren had grabbed the pillow Dean used and buried her face in it.

He runs a long finger along her arm and her bare neck until he threads his fingers through her hair.

She stirs against the pillow. "No…. go away."

Dean watches as she reaches for the blanket and tries to pull it over her head. "Hon, it's time to wake up."

She snuggles deeper into the pillow with a mix of a yawn and a moan. "But I don't wanna."

Dean chuckles softly as he presses his lips to the back of her head. "We have company."

Serenity lifts her head and catches Dean by surprise with a kiss. Her lips brush against his when she talks. "Is it important or do we have some time?"

He moans softly against the fullness of her lips. "Oh babe, if only. It's Ian."

Her bottom lip presses firm against his as she pouts. She leans against Dean's hand before she settles back against her elbows. "Fine, but you're mine later."

Dean's body betrays his intentions and he struggles to keep himself in check. The sheet clings to her bare form and his hands itch to reach out and touch her, every inch of her begs to be touched. He clears his throat as he stands.

She knows what she's doing. Hell, she winks at him as he backs out of the room.

He rests his forehead against the closed door and blows out a harsh breath.

Ian's eyes meet Dean's as he enters the room. "She's on her way."

Serenity emerges wearing a pair of well worn jeans complete with holes in the knees and paint smudges on her thighs and butt. A tattered black concert tee that smells like Dean was thrown on in haste. She runs her fingers through her hair and ties it in a knot as she wanders down the stairs, bare feet padding softly against the wood.

She eyes the files in Ian's grip. "Morning."

Ian pushes up from the chair. "Sorry to come by so early."

"Don't worry about it, Ian. What've you got?"

Serenity accepts the files and flips them open. More details and information of the victims and possible eye witnesses fill the first one while high definition glossy pictures fill the rest. Four dead hookers and extensive wounds add up to a lot of pictures.

Dean settles next to her and picks up a few of the pictures. "This is what you've been doing while I'm gone? Looks... fun."

Ian all but growls. "This is not something to joke about, Dean. These are... were people."

"Chill, man, I know that."

"Boys, boys, please. Ian, I didn't really get a chance to read over the files last night." She meets Dean's gaze and the tension is suddenly thick.

Ian clears his throat. "I can see that. They're bringing someone in to help, another pathologist."

Angry eyes fly to Ian. "What?"

"It's not that they doubt you-"

"No, I get that but who is this guy?"

Ian points at the last file. "Name's Jackson Melville, from Scotland."

All eyes rise to Ian. "Scotland?"

"He's been stateside for a couple years. He uh - actually just applied for a job."

"In my lab?"

Ian holds his hands up in defense. "This is above my head, Ren. There's been a lot of bodies lately and you're swamped-"

Dean watches as she bristles, visibly angry and almost shaking. He places a large hand on her shoulder. "Why don't you go in and meet with this Jack guy? We can hold the fort down, ok?"

Ren turns her steely gaze to Dean and softens immediately under his gaze. "You sure? You just got back."

Everyone in the room knew what the underlying tone in her voice means.

Dean licks his lips and places his hand against her face, trailing his thumb under her bottom lip. "We'll have plenty of time for that later, babe. Go and help them get this son of a bitch."


	5. Chapter 5

After a hug and a kiss from my bouncing son and Dean, I climb in my car and follow Ian to the hospital. Something has been bothering me about this whole thing and it isn't just the fact that we were dealing with a serial killer. I can't put my finger on it and I'm sure it will come to me later, but that doesn't mean I stop thinking about it. And now this new guy? Just what is going on?

Ian beats me to the pathology lab and is leaning against my locked office door. "You're mad."

I arch a brow at him as he slides out of the way. "Not mad, irritated. Something isn't right."

The detective in front of me fishes the phone from his pocket. "Nothing is right about this, Ren."

"Besides the obvious, Ian. I just... I can't put my finger on it."

Large eyes stare hard at me. "Don't you dare say it."

I chew on the inside of my cheek and shrug. "You trust me, right?"

"You know I do."

"So if I say something is wrong, besides the obvious -"

"Can we just meet with Jack?"

I sigh harshly. "You want to do this your way, fine. Where is this guy?"

A thick and ragged accent comes from the hall. "This guy, is right here."

My eyes fall on the source and I find him average in everything. Height, weight and looks. Nothing stands out about this guy but that doesn't stop the shiver that shoots down my spine. I hold my hand out but he declines with a small wave.

"Thanks for coming in. You come highly recommended." Ian gets the same wave from Jackson.

"Sorry, I'm a bit of a germophobe. So, Dr. Hatfield, it's you and me, huh?"

His dark eyes meet mine and my mouth is dry like cotton. "It appears that way. Let me make myself clear on something, this is my lab. You do things my way or you're gone. Just because they brought you in, doesn't mean I can't kick you out."

A playful smile tugs at his lips. "You've staked your territory, alpha. I'm just here to help out and maybe get a job out of it."

Copies of the files I have at home and Ian handed me earlier, are handed to Jackson. He doesn't look at them. Instead, he slides them under his arm and he touches his forehead with two fingers. "Nice to meet you both. I'll get out of your hair and let you know my findings. I want to schedule a time to see the bodies, too." With another smile and a nod of his head, Jackson breezes out of the room.

I stare wide eyed until I hear the latch of the door at the end of the hall. "Are you kidding me?"

Ian shrugs and shakes his head. "Play nice."

I hold my hands up and feign offense. "This is me, you're talking to."

He chuckles low in his throat and backs to the door. "I know exactly who I'm talking to. Can you please take a serious look over those files and get back to me?" Ian is out the door with a playful wink just as I throw a balled up scrap of paper in the empty space he left.

I gather several files from my desk before I head out. The sneaking suspicion that something isn't kosher with the new pathologist, weighs heavy on my mind.

* * *

Dean watches the cars pull down the long drive before he feels the presence of his brother and son behind him.

Sam has a photo in his large hand while he's balancing Johnathan on his hip. "This is some pretty brutal stuff."

"Yeah, this guy sure has a way with a blade."

The trio wander into the kitchen after Dean picks up the discarded files. While Dean starts putting together a hashbrown, sausage, bacon and egg scramble for everyone, Sam flips through the files and Johnathan rolls around in his play pen.

Sam huffs softly but it catches Dean's attention. "What is it?"

The younger Winchester runs a large hand through his hair. "I don't know. There's just something about this that... I don't know."

Dean slides a plate full of food across the table before taking a seat. He pulls a stack of photos and flips through them while he shovels food into his mouth. A note of familiarity brushes against him, but he can't put his finger on it.

Sam watches the flash in his brother's eyes. "You know what I'm talking about?"

"Why does this seem so familiar?" The large coffee cup is drained empty with a loud gulp.

"Again, I say, I don't know."

Dean spins in his seat and grabs a pen and paper from a drawer. "What're the names and locations they found the bodies?"

Sam clears his throat as he locates the papers. "Mary Ann Nichols was located in an area called Buck's Row behind the chapel. Annie Chapman in a backyard on Hanbury Street. Elizabeth Stride, off of Derner Street behind the chapel and Catherine Eddowes was found off of Mitre Square."

Dean mutters under his breath while the pen travels across the page. "Buck's Row, Hanbury Street, Mitre Square, chapel... chapel, chapel, chapel. What is the color of the chapel?"

"Umm, white? Yeah, it's white. Why?"

Dean's brows furrow together in confusion as his fingers work through his hair. "Ugh, I don't know."

Sam gives Dean some more information from the files and they scour over the high definition pictures.

* * *

 

Sam leans back against the chair. "I swear, it's on the tip of my tongue."

Dean opens his mouth but is interrupted by Serenity all but storming in the room, irritation flows off her in waves.

She pours a cup of coffee and huffs angrily.

Johnathan babbles happily at the sight of his mother, but her attention is obviously elsewhere.

Dean stands in front of Serenity and places his hands on her hips. He dips his head to catch meet her gaze. "Hey, you ok?"

Serenity shrugs. "I met the new pathologist."

"And?"

"He creeps me out." She shudders involuntarily in Dean's grip.

He can't hide the chuckle that spills out. "That can't be the only reason you're upset."

The cup is set down so she can rest her hands on the large shoulders in front of her. "Yeah, you're right. Something is bugging me about this whole thing."

"You too?" Sam's voice is thick over the mouthful of food.

Serenity peeks around Dean. "What do you mean, 'you too?'"

Full lips press against her cheek before Dean turns and picks up the pad with his writing. "There is something familiar about all of this, we just can't figure out what it is."

The papers flip over as she reads over Dean's notes. Large, blue eyes scour over every word and random doodle created by the black ink.

One note reads _white chapel prostitutes murdered_. Serenity gasps as she thrusts the notepad against Dean's chest.

* * *

The words _white chapel prostitutes murdered_ scream at me in the bold black ink. "Oh my God. I can't believe I missed this."

I push past Dean and down the hall into the large study. I feel Dean follow, watching as my fingers roam over the spines of books until there's a large brown leather bound book placed on the desk.

"What? What is going on?" Sam pulls to a stop behind his older brother.

My eyes scan over the many words until I find the ones I was looking for. Geez, they practically jump off the page. I mutter the words under my breath as I read and when the last three words are uttered, I hang my head and groan. "No, no, no."

Dean stands next to me and pushes my hand off the page with his. "What is it?"

Without even looking, I point at the three words at the end of the page and I hear him pull in a surprised breath.

"No, that can't be. It's been like 125 years or something."

"What am I missing?"

Dean holds the book up for his younger brother, forefinger tapping the page.

Sam scoffs loudly. "You're kidding me."

I lift my head and meet Sam's doubting eyes. "I don't think so, Sam. Everything points to Jack the Ripper."


	6. Chapter 6

Sarah is next to me at the kitchen table. The large book from the study is open before us. Her large brown eyes scour the many pages while I try and feed my son.

Johnathan wants nothing to do with the yellow squash that I'm trying to airplane into his mouth. "Come on bub, you gotta eat something."

Yellow mush pushes out between his lips and he goes giddy with laughter. With a frustrated sigh, I put a cover on the uneaten food and store it in the fridge. My back up, a box of cheerio's, is pulled from the cupboard and met with happy squeals as they fall onto the table. "I think we're going to single handedly drive the stock of general mills through the roof."

Sarah chuckles softly behind me. "At least he's putting on weight. The doctor can't complain too much."

"Oh they'll always find something to complain about. Speaking of doctor's, when's your next appointment?"

Sarah rolls her eyes as she leans back. "They'll always find something to complain about."

I match her position and with a nod of approval, I rest my hand against her stomach. The baby pushes against my hand almost immediately. "What in the world do they have to complain about with you?"

The expectant mother shrugs with a sigh. "First it was I wasn't gaining enough weight now it looks like I'm gaining too much weight. The baby is measuring two weeks ahead."

It's my turn to roll my eyes. "Have they seen the father? I mean, really."

We share a smile as the unborn child tumbles and turns in Sarah's belly. "I don't know what I got myself into!"

I can't help it, I burst out laughing. "I don't know either, honey."

Sam pokes his head in and arches a thick brow. "What's got you two in such a good mood?"

Sarah goes red and has to cover her mouth before another laugh tumbles out.

"You're ears burning, Sammy?" I give the engorged stomach a small pat and match Sam's arched brow.

The tallest Winchester narrows his eyes at the three of us, Johnathan had started to squeal in delight when he heard us girls laughing. He lumbers over and presses a loud kiss against Sarah's head. "How you feeling, babe?"

Sarah grunts as her hand flies to her stomach. "This child of yours is bound and determined to hurt me."

Sam kneels next to the mother of his unborn child, and pushes her hand away before placing his large hand against her stomach. The size of her stomach seems to diminish against the length of his fingers. "Shhhhh, shhhhh. Now what did we talk about, huh? You be nice to your mama, ok?"

A sigh of relief escapes between Sarah's lips and her body visibly relaxes. "Why can't I do that?"

She runs her hand through Sam's thick hair as he bends and presses a kiss where his hand was.

"The Winchester charm, what can I say." He pushes up off the floor and heads back the way he came, studying over old Jack the ripper case files with his brother.

I stifle a laugh and throw a cheerio at him. "Is it like that every time?"

"Every time he says something or touches my stomach, she instantly calms."

"Daddy's girl already."

"Just like her mama."

* * *

Sam chuckles as the cheerio bounces off his shoulder.

Dean arches a brow at his brother. "What?"

"I tamed the rowdy child."

A small smile pulls at Dean's lips. "She hates it when you do that."

"Not as much as she loves it."

Dean leans back and sighs softly. "You ready for it?"

"For what?"

"Being a dad."

Sam drops into the chair across from Dean, his long fingers picking up the previously discarded book. "I think so. I mean you're never 100% prepared are you? It helps that Johnny is only 5 months old. Everything we've helped out with and seen will be relatively fresh by the time Sarah goes into labor."

Dean remembers the first time he changed a diaper. Johnny peed all over his shirt before the new father could cover the geyser. "Trust me, things will happen that you couldn't have predicted."

The brothers get back to work and scour every scrap of paper they can find over the next couple of hours before they stand and groan loudly.

While Sam goes in search of something to cook for dinner, Dean follows the smell of Ren's lilac shampoo. It was later than he thought and he found her in their son's room. A whole day wasted over books when he could have, should have spent it with his family.

Her soft voice carried the words his mother used to sing, words that calmed him even to this day. He sneaks behind the rocking chair and catches her eye.

She stops rocking so he can bend and kiss his son goodnight. The smell of his son mingles with fresh baby powder as Dean pulls in a deep breath.

The pair slip out of the room with minimal noise after Ren covers their son with his mint green blanket.

Dean keeps his voice low as they drift down the stairs. "You hungry?"

"Yeah, I could eat." There is no missing the tone in her voice, she is hungry but not just for food.

Dean turns as his feet leave the final step. With her on the step he just vacated, they're the same height. Out of habit, he wraps his arms around her waist and she does the same around his neck.

Her fingers play in the small hairs on the back of his neck. Their noses touch briefly before their lips follow suit. At first the kiss is feather soft, almost undetectable until Dean captures Serenity's bottom lip between his.

She melts against him with a sigh, opening her mouth to his almost urgent request. The sweetness of the lemonade she had earlier clings to her tongue, mixing nicely with the whiskey on his. Everything around them seems to fade away as they get lost in the sound and taste and feel of each other.

Dean feels the roundness of her breast at his fingertips when someone clears their throat.

"Uh, you guys want dinner? I was gonna throw some steaks on the grill."

Serenity rests her forehead against Dean's shoulder while he answers his brother.

"Be right there." Dean's voice is thick and ragged with desire for something other than food.

It's not until Sam's footsteps fade into the kitchen before Serenity lifts her head. Crystal blue eyes meet Dean's and they sparkle with embarrassment. "He's seen a lot worse, trust me."

"Still doesn't mean I'm not embarrassed by it."

Large hands push down her side and around to cup her butt. Dean pulls her hard against him so there's no doubt she can feel every inch of him. "I'm not."

A soft moan spills from her lips before she bites her bottom lip, preventing a larger one from filling the room. "Dean…"

He watches as her eyes flutter closed and the way she's gripping onto his shoulders tells him she enjoys the rush of arousal flowing through her. Dean grinds himself against her and is rewarded by her head falling back. The bare skin of her neck begs to be kissed, licked and nibbled on and he does just that. Her leg lifts with the assistance of his hand as it sweeps along her thigh, brushing every so quickly against the heat at her core.

Her voice is as thick as his was moments ago as she grows breathless. "Dean, we should uh… we should stop."

The scruff of his chin against her neck makes her shudder against him. "Or we could continue this upstairs." He nips gently at her earlobe.

She's quiet, save for the borderline panting, for several rapid heartbeats before she answers. "As promising as this sounds and feels," her own hips press hard against his, "I'm famished."

Her lips crash against his for a hard, almost harsh kiss, before she pushes past him.

With a loud grunt, he reaches into his tight jeans and rearranges himself. "Son of a bitch." He hisses at the hardness in his hand and finds himself wishing no one else was in the house, he would've taken her against the wall without another thought.


	7. Chapter 7

Following a deep grunt, Dean and I fall to the bed in a sweaty mess of limbs, bodies still connected in the most intimate of ways. Muscles twitch and ache as the high of our orgasm pulses through us. He holds me tight against his chest as I straddle his waist, long fingers splay over my damp back and his heart hammers against my cheek.

When I can breathe somewhat normally, I lift my head and watch as his lips purse and open as he tries to regulate his breathing. I rest my hands against his chest and separate our slick chests.

A deep groan rumbles from beneath me as our bodies shift. Large hands grip my hips and dark green eyes meet mine. "Where you going?"

I cover his hands with mine. "Well in case you hadn't noticed, I'm all sweaty."

The man beneath me arches a brow playfully. He bites his bottom lip as he uses me for support, sitting up so we're chest to chest again. Moans bubble out from both of us this time. "Oh believe me, I noticed." His tongue dances along my collar bone and a content sigh brushes against my damp skin.

I can't help it, I answer his sigh and arch my back. It always amazes me how quick he is to recover from sex. His hips rock beneath mine and in that moment, I feel him swell inside. Slowly, as if he has control over that type of thing. I'll never get over that feeling and God help me if I ever do. I slide my legs from beneath me and wrap them around his waist, pushing him deeper yet. The moan that spills out of us could have woken everyone in the house if Dean hadn't thrust his tongue into my mouth.

The kiss is fast and hard, just like the thrusts of our hips. While the previous round had been slow and thorough, this was anything but. This time it is all about the most basic of human desires. Also, it seems to be a race to see who comes first. We're both panting as our mouths disengage. It's rare and also extremely hot when we watch each other and tonight is one of those times. Our mouths hang open as we climb the mountain of release. His twitches become more insistent as hands dig deep into my lower back, grunting my name and I know he'll get there before me, but not too far ahead. I reach behind me and grab at the tight mound of flesh below me, massaging and kneading the ultra-sensitive skin as I begin to pulse around him.

It's an effort but we maintain eye contact as he spills into me. His warmth is the final push I need to throw myself over the edge. Our chests heave to the point that it almost hurts to breathe and I fall limp against him. All of our nerves are in overdrive and every movement we make causes one of us to twitch in one way or another.

His chest rumbles when he finally finds his voice. "If we keep this up, Sam and Sarah are going to move out."

I grab at the back of his neck as I lift my head from his shoulder. "Noise cancelling headphones. I'll buy them some for Christmas."

Dean laughs low in his throat as he taps my bottom. "You would, too."

I push my bottom lip out. "I don't wanna go."

The thumb of his free hand runs over my extended lip. "If you want that shower, you better get going. Otherwise, I'm likely to take you again and again."

As much as I hate to admit it, he is right. I had called Ian earlier and said I would take another look at all the bodies.

I nip at his thumb as I work my legs from behind him and pull away. We both groan deeply as he falls away and I feel suddenly empty. I make sure that I shower alone, otherwise we'll never get to sleep. By the time he joins me in bed, we're both exhausted and fall asleep with him curled around my back.

* * *

Four bodies lay bare under their sheets in the old operating room. I don't know what I'm looking for as I examine the victims, but I clear my mind. I talk aloud as I work, speaking clearly into the microphone that is attached to my ear.

"Mary's throat was severed by two cuts while the lower part of the abdomen was partly ripped open, leaving a deep, jagged wound. There are several other incisions on the abdomen by what appeared to be caused by the same knife. Annie Chapman's throat was severed by two cuts just like Mary Ann Nichols. Her abdomen was slashed entirely open and her uterus has been removed prior to discovery of the body. Elizabeth Stride bears one clear-cut incision which severed the main artery on the left side of the neck. There is an absence of mutilations to the abdomen. Brass isn't sure this victim was killed by the same assailant. Catherine Eddowes's throat was severed and the abdomen was ripped open, leaving a long, deep, jagged wound. The left kidney and the major part of the uterus has also been removed."

I sigh heavily as I cover all the bodies. I had taken samples while I conducted the exam. Other notations of bruises and what looked to be defensive wounds are documented. "Each woman has torn fingernails and damage to the pelvic wall indicating they were raped. No DNA has been found so more than likely, an object was used. Maybe the assailant is impotent?"

"That's an interesting perspective."

A thick voice behind me caused me to gasp in surprise. I whirl around and find that Dr. Melville is standing almost directly behind me. "God, you scared me."

A small smile spreads across his lips. "I'm sorry, that was not my intent."

I back away slowly, forcing myself to smile in response. "No, it's ok. I get focused on the task at hand. What can I help you with?"

He reaches out for a pair of gloves, pulling them on with a snap. "I hope you don't mind, me stopping by like this. I was hoping I could get a look at the bodies. Part of the investigation and all."

I don't know why, but his accented voice grates on me. I feel like I could throw up all over the room. The nausea subsides but hot on its heels is irritation. "Ian didn't call me and say the meeting was set up."

Melville shrugs subtly and I watch as his chocolate brown eyes move languidly over Mary's cloth covered body. "I didn't phone him. I figured it was ok if I just drop by. Is that a problem?" He raises his dark eyes to me.

Every fiber in my being wants to stomp my foot like a five year old and scream that yes, it was a problem. I swallow the bile in my throat and wave my hand to the four gurneys. "Is there anything that you need, Melville?"

He smiles wide and I swear that every hair on my body stands. "I think I can handle a few dead hookers."

* * *

"Ian, I swear there is something wrong with that man." I seethe as I pace in my office. Dr. Melville had left moments ago. The first thing I wanted to do was bathe in scalding hot water but I opted for calling Ian instead.

An accent that didn't grate on me brushed against my ear. "I'm sorry, but there's nothing I can do. This is a favor to the mayor."

"Oh, screw Mayor Dobkins." I can't hide the disdain as it coats my words.

Ian chuckles in surprise. "I ran a background check on this guy. He's clean as a whistle."

"That doesn't mean I don't want to shove a red hot poker in his head every time I see him." I swallow the Johnny Walker Blue hungrily and rinse the glass in the sink of the small bathroom.

"Ren, you said you would play nice."

"Yeah, well, things change." The discovery of a possible explanation about the bodies runs through my mind. "Ian, I need to tell you something."

I can tell Ian pulls the phone away from his mouth before he groans. His voice is deeper than before when he returns, laced with irritation? "What is it?"

I know how this is going to sound. He'll probably want to admit me to the local sanitarium. "Promise you're not going to freak out."

"No."

"Come on, Ian."

"Just tell me what you found."

You would think after all he's seen, after all we've been through, that he would believe the next three words I'm about to utter. I blow out a breath away from the phone. God knows I don't want to deafen him with the harsh exhale. "Jack the ripper."

Ian laughs, loud and long. "You're kidding, right? Is it April Fool's?"

I rub at my temple with my thumb. "God help me, no."

His laughter fades and I hear the front door of the precinct slam closed. "You care to explain to me how a serial from 1888 is killing hookers today? It's 2014 for Christ sake."

"I don't know. Sam and Dean are digging through every bit of history they can get their hands on."

"So, there's no proof."

"No, not yet. I just have this feeling-"

"I can't go on a feeling you got. You better bring me something rock solid, Ren."

My mouth works like a fish washed up on shore. "We're working on it." Before he can utter another syllable, I disconnect the call and fight the urge to throw it through the windowed wall of my office.


	8. Chapter 8

"Honestly? It's been a week and we're no closer to figuring this out." I fall onto the couch with an exhausted huff.

Johnathan babbles as his father walks around the room. "You want me to call Bobby? He might have some insight."

I rub at my eyes as a yawn finds its way out. "No, I called him yesterday. They're on the way. Sorry, I forgot to tell you."

The cushion shifts as father and son join me. "You're tired and overworked."

"Thank you Captain Obvious."

"And crabby."

I turn to look at the pair and fall into four crystal green eyes. "I'm sorry."

Johnathan holds out pudgy hands and grunts anxiously, his legs pushing against Dean's stomach.

I hold my son against my chest and sigh into his shoulder. "Mommy misses you too, bub."

Dean drapes his arm around me and squeezes my shoulder. "We'll get this guy."

Johnathan had grabbed my ID badge from work and was busily soaking it in drool. "And in the meantime? We just stand by while women are brutally murdered?"

"Babe." His tone is gentle but stern. Death is part of the life we lead. We can't save them all even though we try desperately to do so.

"Yeah, I know."

Dean chews on his bottom lip. "Has Melville found anything that we could use?"

I roll my eyes and sigh exaggeratedly. "Melville. I haven't seen much of him since last week. If he filled out a report, he must have given it to Ian."

"That doesn't strike you as... odd?"

"The whole thing strikes me as odd, Dean."

He blows out a breath. We both watch our son as he tries to devour my access badge. "Hey, where're Sarah and Sam?"

I nestle into the side of Dean. "Doctor appointment. Her glucose level was a little high the other day."

"Ugh, I hate needles."

I roll my head to look up at him with wide eyes. "You. You hate needles? You, who has sliced your own arms open more times than I can count on both hands, hate needles."

"So?"

"You have a tattoo, Dean." I try not to let the small smile pull at my lips.

"That's totally different."

I can't help it, I laugh at him and I laugh hard. "How is it different? They're needles."

He actually looks hurt when I laugh at him. It doesn't help that Johnathan joins in, his squeals echo in the room. "There's a _huge_ difference."

"Oh, well ok then Mr. I'm scared of needles."

"I didn't say I was scared -"

I roll my eyes and lift my head just enough to silence his next words. I capture his bottom lip between my teeth, nipping gently.

He moans deep in his throat as his hand lifts to my neck, the pad of his thumb brushes along my jaw as he moves to deepen the kiss. I can taste the beer on his tongue and the only thing keeping me from crawling into Dean's lap is the fact that my son is currently in mine.

Dean rubs his nose against mine at the end of our kiss. "Brat."

"Spoilsport."

Johnathan lets loose another squeal at the sound of a car pulling up the drive. We both push off the couch and go outside to greet the visitors I was expecting.

Bobby's faded blue car shifts into park and I can see his mile wide smile before he gets out of the car.

Jody stretches out slowly. Her back had been giving her a bit of trouble since she had been kidnapped and tortured last year.

We join the pair by the open trunk, sharing hugs and kisses on the cheek. Jody happily takes my son away from me. "Aunty Jody missed you!"

I can't help but laugh at the outburst of giggles as Jody tickles the crook of Johnathan's neck. I nudge Bobby in the arm. "Thanks for coming out."

"It's no problem, darlin'. You know that." He pulls me against him in a giant hug. He may look older than he is, and the arthritis in his knees might try to keep him down and out when it rains, but that man has an iron grip.

I bury my face in his shoulder and sigh at the comfort his hug brings me. "I missed you old man."

"Missed you too, kid." Bobby wasn't much for showing affection. But when it came to Jody, Sam, Sarah, Dean, me and our son, the stubborn facade slipped.

"Let's get you guys inside and you can tell us what you've been up to."

Everyone, except Jody, grabs a large bag from the trunk and piles into the house. While Bobby and Jody find their room and unpack, I lay my overly tired son down in his crib after a bottle and a quick lullaby.

Dean stops me at the bottom of the steps. "Something going on with those two?"

"Bobby and Jody? Yeah, I think so."

The very happy couple had wandered out the back door after grabbing a bottle of beer.

I cross my arms over my stomach. "Alright you two, spill it."

Jody jumps slightly at the sound of my voice. "What do you mean?" She has the nerve to try and look innocent but we aren't buying it.

"You're keeping something from us."

They exchange a look and hell, even a wink. For the first time in... years, I notice that a flush has crept into Bobby's cheeks. Jody lifts her left hand and something on her fourth finger glints in the sun.

Dean and I look at them, each other and back to the couple.

Jody and I giggle excitedly as I all but lunge at her. Bobby and Dean share a tight hug, clapping their hands roughly against each others backs.

Bobby is the first to say anything after the round of congratulations. "We have other news."

Dean rests his hand on Bobby's shoulder. "Nothing bad, I hope."

"No, son, nothing bad. We are selling the salvage lot and house. Thought we'd take you up on that offer to move here." He looks almost nervous, like I would rescind my previous offer.

"Are you kidding? That's awesome!" I throw myself into Bobby's arms again and giggle into the crook of his neck. "You stinkers. Why didn't you tell us sooner?"

Jody has to stand on tip toe in order to get a proper hug from Dean. "There were some loose ends we needed to tie up."

Dean smiles knowingly. "Bodies?"

"That and all the hunting paraphernalia that might hinder the sale." We all nod, knowing how it might look to the outside world.

Jody yawns suddenly. "You guys mind if I lie down?"

"Go for it. There's plenty of time to discuss the wedding details later!" The two of us wink at each other before she places a tender kiss against Bobby's stubbled cheek.

Once Jody has disappeared into the house, Dean claps Bobby on the shoulder. "It's about time you asked her to marry you."

For the first time sine Karen, he looks genuinely happy and he wears it well. He shakes his head and turns his tone serious. "So this case you're on. What can we do?"

I give a disapproving snort. "Figure you'd change the subject."

He tries to hide a smile but I see it just as he turns his head away. Dean and I follow him as he walks towards the house. "Show me what you got."


	9. Chapter 9

Bobby closes the files and a heavy sigh fills the room. "Well this is sure... interesting."

Both Dean and I sigh in response. "But do you see what we see?" 

"Jack the Ripper? I mean, yeah, there are similarities but-"

"Don't you dare say that you don't believe me." I can't keep the hurt out of my voice.

An aged hand covers mine. "Darlin', of course I believe you. You have great instincts. It's just... how? He tormented London over 100 years ago."

"You don't think I know how crazy this sounds?" I push away from the table and start pacing.

"You do know who you're talking to, right?"

I can't help the chuckle the creeps out. "True. I mean, look at you guys."

Dean grabs my hand and sweeps his thumb over my knuckles. "There's the shadow of a laugh I love."

Bobby clears his throat gently. "Do you have any working theories on just who or _what_ this guy is?"

I grab a glass of water and quickly drain it. "No. I mean, they didn't even have a suspect or anything like that."

Bobby draws his brows together as his fingers glide over some papers. "They had a few but any evidence was circumstantial, at best."

I sigh softly as I drag a hand through my hair. "And since everyone alive then is dead now, we can't exactly go about this like a normal investigation."

Dean bends at the waist to examine a file carefully. He mumbles as his eyes scan over the page, a finger gliding along, keeping his spot as he reads. "So this guy, Macnaghten, wrote a report about Jack. He listed three suspects, but no one believed him. There were factual errors and of course, little to no evidence."

Bobby pulls a pen from the drawer behind him. "Give me the names."

* * *

My fingers fly over the keyboard, a Wikipedia page grabs my attention. "Macnaghten's favored suspect was Montague John Druitt, a barrister turned teacher who allegedly committed suicide sometime in December 1888. Unfortunately, Macnaghten, in writing from memory, committed many factual errors in his report regarding Druitt. There was no evidence of contemporary police suspicion against him at the time of the murders and no evidence linking him to the murders. Frederick Abberline, the detective who led the investigation, did not believe that Druitt was the Ripper."

"Aaron Kosminski, a Polish Jew who lived in Whitechapel and was committed to an insane asylum in 1891. While not on the top of the list as Druitt, he was certainly suspected by Robert Anderson, the man who succeeded Monro as Assistant Commissioner, with apparent confirmation by Chief Inspector Donald Swanson. As with Druitt, there was no concrete evidence to support this allegation, and it was suggested that naming Kosminski as a suspect seemed to reflect anti-semitism rather than a genuine connection to the case."

"Finally, the third suspect in Macnaghten's report was a man named Michael Ostrog, a Russian-born thief and con man who affected several aliases and disguises and was detained in asylums in several occasions. Again, there was little to support this suspicion against Ostrog. Records indicated that he was imprisoned in France during the murders. The fact that Ostrog was arrested and imprisoned before the report was written raises the question of why Ostrog was included at all as a viable suspect."

Dean rubs my shoulders, working at the knots that form when I'm stressed. "So, a lot of information but nothing that will really help us."

"Nothing that will really help us." Familiarity brushes along my mind like a feather.

Something on this website, something I had looked over, holds the key to this entire case. "Wait a minute."

* * *

Both men stare at Serenity as she bows her back to get a closer view of the website. Dean's hands slide over the curve of her back. He knew she was lost to anything else but the website.

He tips his head to the other room and Bobby follows Dean out of the kitchen. He runs a hand through his hair. "What do you think, Bobby?"

"About what? The case or Ren thinkin' it's a serial killer from a century ago?"

"I don't know, both?"

Concern washes over the older man. "What's eatin' you, boy?"

"Maybe nothing, I don't know. It's just.. this case, Bobby. She hasn't gone to work in two days, she's up all night looking over the files -"

Bobby's laugh makes Dean scowl. "Boy, who does that sound like to you?"

"Who?"

"You, your brother, and just about every other hunter out there. She's a hunter, Dean, this," Bobby points into the kitchen at the woman hunched over the laptop, "is what we do."

* * *

I scan through the information again and again and again, determined to find the key piece I need to crack this case open. It's here, I know it is, I just can't find it.

I quickly discard the three suspects listed in Macnaghten's report on Jack the Ripper, they don't feel relevant. After another thorough read, I close the tab and turn my attention back to the original wikipedia page that led me to the report.

Jack the Ripper... who is he? _What_ is he?

I growl in frustration at the amount of information available. "A lot of information but nothing that will really help us."

Wait a second. Help. Macnaghten was trying to help. What is it those procedural cop shows say about those that offer their help? They do so in order to cast off suspicion. "Son of a bitch."

I re-open the closed tab and stare at the full name of Macnaughten, Sir Melville Leslie Macnaghten.

Jack the Ripper.

Sir Melville Macnaghten.

Jack.

Melville.

Jack Melville.

Jackson Melville.

"Son of a BITCH!"

Bobby and Dean are behind me in a matter of moments. They voice their curiosity in unison. "What?"

"I... I know who it is."


	10. Chapter 10

Johnathan is on my lap, babbling away and playing with a spoon while Ian reads through everything that Bobby, Jody, Dean, Sam, Sarah and I threw together over the last 24 hours.

I chew on my bottom lip nervously and watch Ian's mouth moves as he reads silently to himself. Every once in a while, his thick, black eyebrow jumps up.

Finally, he closes the file and clears his throat.

My son has grown weary of his uncle Ian ignoring him and starts to grunt as his legs kick against mine. "Well?"

Standing on long legs, Ian is at my side in three strides. He relieves me of the antsy child. "You're sure?"

"One hundred percent."

A pudgy hand grabs at the badge worn around the neck of my friend mere seconds before it's encased in drool. "Ok. Never thought I'd say these words but, let's go get us a vampire."

It hadn't taken us long to figure out the new pathologist was a blood sucker.

Jody had gotten in touch with some old cop buddies of hers. Turns out, Jackson Melville didn't exist five years ago. He showed up, out of the blue, with all the right paperwork and documentation. Everything he needed to establish a life and work his way into a community.

"So what's your plan?"

I shrug, driving a hand through my hair. "We have to find him first."

Johnathan grabs a handful of Ian's hair and yanks hard, pulling a grunt from him just as he was about to speak. "I haven't heard from him since we met in your office. Seems a bit… weird."

I can't help it but chuckle. "Honey, weird is what we do."

Standing, I hold my hands out and my son giggles loudly. Hands punch through the air in an attempt to get to me.

Ian shakes his head as my son all but somersaults away from his side. "Easy there, tiger."

Johnathan tries, but fails, to blow a raspberry against my neck, his hands tangled in my hair. I return the favor and groan as drool slides over my collar bone. "Geez, kid."

I'm handed a paper towel before Ian leans back against the counter. "So, neither of us know where he is. He has over a century of skills to rely on and if we believe history, his killing spree is just about done. What do you want to do?"

I sigh heavily. My son leans back and smiles wide, several teeth poking through his gums shine in his ever present drool. "We could set a trap."

"Hell no." Dean's gruff voice startles me and his son.

Ian's voice isn't as deep but it echoes Dean's concern. "After everything everyone in this house has been through, I'm going to agree with Dean. Hell no."

I had whirled around to face Dean and found him clenching his jaw. Despite the situation, I feel certain muscles tighten. We stare at each other, my eyes pleading while his are hard.

"No, Ren. You are not going to be the bait. We are not laying a trap."

I chew on the inside of my cheek. "What's your plan then, Dean?"

The man in front of me shrugs with one shoulder. "You, Johnathan, Jody and Sarah are leaving town. We'll take care of Jack."

"But –"

I feel Ian move up behind me. He rests a hand on my shoulder. "But, nothing. You girls aren't going to be around for this. There's too much at risk."

I reach up and rest my hand atop Ian's.

Dean's eyes soften around the edges. He's worried. Of course he is. There's a centuries old vampire running around and killing women.

Moments ago, Ian had said "if we believe history." Well, part of history stated that the women Jack the Ripper slaughtered were pregnant. A detail not given to the public was that the women killed in the present, were also pregnant.

Sarah is pregnant. We can't risk her life, or the baby's, just because I want to stay and lay a trap for the son of a bitch.

My stomach rolls at just the thought of anything happening to them, to our family; again.

I nod and grit my teeth in frustration. "Where are we going?"

* * *

The four men watch as the tail lights of Serenity's SUV turn onto the main road before fading into the night.

Dean shoves his hands deep into his pockets and sighs. He can feel his brother just a few feet behind him. "Don't worry, Sammy. They'll be back in a few days."

Sam chuckles softly. "Yeah, if we get the bastard."

The oldest Winchester turns and arches a brow. "Is that doubt I hear?"

"No. I just… what if something happens to them while they're out there? What if Sarah –"

Dean rests a hand on Sam's shoulder and looks up. You can't tell by their height that Dean is older than Sam. "Stop with the what if's, brother. They'll drive you crazy. Bobby's got a lead and we're gonna find the blood sucker and rip his head off, ok? Hey. Ok?"

Sam's gaze drfits back to the empty driveway. "Yeah, ok."

* * *

Bobby pockets his cell phone and turns to three sets of eyes, eagerly awaiting news that the lead panned out. One corner of his mouth pulls up. "Garth says Jack rented a cabin a few months back, paid for six months, cash."

The three men nod before Sam clears his throat. "Where's it at?"

"On the other end of town. But the terrain, it's difficult to say the least." Bobby turns and waves his hand for the guys to follow him into what was Ren's great grandpa Johnathan's office.

A large map is spread out on the desk and it takes a minute before Bobby finds the coordinates Garth texted to him after the call was disconnected. "See? The cabin is ten miles outside of town. Surrounding that is the thickest and most dense woods I've ever seen. I don't know if going there is a good idea."

Dean releases his crossed arms and spreads his hand over the map, next to Bobby's. "What about this? Looks like there's another building that shares some common property." He flicks his eyes to Ian. "What do you think, Irish? Sneak in the back?"

Ian shrugs before leaning over the map.

Sam lumbers over, too.

The detective drags a finger where the properties connect and where there's a clear indication of easy access. "I haven't been up that way in a few years but the house was owned by Mr. Miller. Mean, old coot. Shoot first, ask questions later kind of guy. Doesn't take too kindly to people trespassing."

Bobby rolls his eyes. "Well… that tends to complicate things."

Ian smirks at the older man. "Didn't say I couldn't handle him." A long finger is moved along the map. "Here, this is where we gain access to the house. Dean and I will take the back while you and Sam take the front. This will most likely be our only chance to do this."

Everyone nods in agreement until Ian's brows draw together in confusion.

Bobby stands straight. "What is it?"

"Won't this thing smell us a mile off?"

The three hunters share a knowing smile before Bobby walks out of the room and the front door.

Ian stares after the old man before turning his gaze to Sam. Just as he's about to open his mouth, Bobby enters the house and hands Ian a large bottle.

"What's this?"

Dean chuckles. Memories of his first time smelling it spill into his mind. "You don't want to know. Just know that it'll help hide our scent. Give us a better chance of sneaking up on this bastard."

Ian unscrews the top and takes a big whiff. Gagging, he slaps the cap back on. "Bollocks. That's just… really? We have to wear this?"

Sam slaps the detective on the shoulder. "'Fraid so."

"No, but seriously, what is it?"

Bobby takes the glass jar from Ian. "Saffron, skunk's cabbage and trillium. It just goes on your clothes but it wouldn't hurt to sprinkle some in your hair."

"Uh uh, no thank you."

Sam clears his throat. "Did Garth happen to mention if Jack is even home?"

"Didn't say, kid, sorry."

Dean runs a hand through his slightly longer than normal hair. "So, we just go in like he is. If he isn't, we're back to square one. If he is, and let's hope he is, we chop his head off."

Ian nods in agreement even though his stomach is still rolling at just the thought of wearing the gag inducing ashes. "Let's gear up. Roll out in 20."

* * *

The engine ticks as smoke billows from everywhere. There's a loud dripping noise as I stir in my seat. My hands fall above my head and slap against the roof. That's when my eyes fly open. Pain roars through my body as I realize the SUV is upside down.

"S – Sarah? Jody? Are y – you ok?" I cough hard through the smoke.

A set of moans is my answer. That's good. No screams of pain.

My brain suddenly remembers there was someone else in the car with us. "Johnathan?!" Panic laces my voice as I struggle against the seat belt.

Jody's ragged voice cuts through the smoke. "H – he's ok, honey. I – I got him."

Johnathan coos and the tightness in my chest eases slightly.

I find the seat belt latch and press hard. Falling against the roof of my car is my reward. I scramble out the shattered window and run around to the other side.

Jody has my son, I know they're safe. But Sarah, I don't know the extent of her injuries.

Sarah's long hair is pooled against the roof, her hands lost in the strands. Her cheeks are red from the blood rushing to her head and there's a tightness in her face that tells me she's in pain.

"Sarah, it's Ren. Wake up, honey." I cast a worried glance at Jody.

She's gotten free and has worked her way out of the vehicle. My son is clutching to the retired sheriff but he doesn't have a scratch on him. Jody, on the other hand, has a wide gash above her eyebrow and is using only one arm to hold my son. The other is hanging at her side with blood dripping off her fingertips.

"Don't you dare, I'm ok. You get Sarah out."

Sarah stirs, moaning as her back arches. Dark eyelashes flutter against her cheeks as she struggles to wake up.

"Relax, Sarah. It's ok, you're ok." I run my hands softly over her stomach and find it hard to the touch. Harder than normal. The bundle she's carrying around twitches hard under my touch and Sarah gasps loudly. I notice that there's another dripping noise and it's coming from the seat Sarah is strapped against. I let a couple drops fall into my hand and notice the color and odd smell. "Shit."

I feel Jody move behind me and stand. "Her water broke, she's having contractions."

"Shit. Does this thing have OnStar or something? There's no cell service."

I run a dirty hand through my hair and wince when I run across a large knot. I cringe at the wave of nausea and try not to let my knees buckle. I fall against the side of the overturned vehicle and groan loudly. "No, it wasn't an option when I bought it. Shit."

Jody bounces Johnathan on her hip as he pouts, holding his arms out for me. "What do you want to do?"

Pushing away from the vehicle, I plant a loud kiss against Johnathan's head and feel his hands grab at my shirt. "We aren't that far from town. Are you ok to walk there?" My eyes fall to her probably dislocated shoulder.

Swallowing hard, Jody cringes as she realizes what she's about to say. "Only if you put it back."

* * *

 

After putting her shoulder back, and securing my son to her chest with a sling, Jody is walking away from the wreckage. I can hear the soft cries of my son as the pair step outside the reach of the headlights.

Sarah stirs again, her eyes open for a moment. Just long enough that I can tell she's probably concussed.

I work my way around so that when I release the seat belt, I will take the brunt of her fall.

_"I'll take care of them, Sam. Trust me."_

* * *

 

We're behind the wreckage, away from the smoke when I hear footsteps. It's not Jody, the stride isn't right. I risk a glance around the tail gate and curse under my breath.

Jackson Melville steps into the headlights, a sick smile playing with his lips.

Sarah moans softly and even though I know he can hear and smell us, I cover her mouth with my hand and hold my breath. There's a large shard of glass next to my leg. I rip off a piece of Dean's red and white plaid shirt and wrap it around the sharp edges. Palming the weapon, I crouch low, ready to pounce but shielding Sarah from the vampire.

He clicks his tongue against his teeth several times. "Such a shame about your car. I do hope no one was seriously injured." Humor plays with his tone.

I cringe when he drags his long fingernail against the metal. As if it were made of paper, the metal rips apart under his touch.

Holding my breath, I listen to his steps until they stop before I burst out from my not so hidden hiding spot. My arm shoots out into the smoke filled air and finds… nothing.

Confusion eats at my concussed mind until I feel a hand on my shoulder. The chill from his skin seeps through the plaid shirt.

I'm about to whirl and face the monster when he squeezes three of his fingers on a pressure point. The pressure point that causes unconsciousness. I can't fight it because I'm vulnerable from the accident and the result he wants is almost immediate.

I hear the pregnant woman behind us groan before everything around me vanishes.


	11. Chapter 11

Ian slows the SUV and pulls over to the shoulder when he sees the flashing red and blue lights of an ambulance that is fast approaching. Sirens are borderline deafening as the vehicle roars past.

Dean twirls a knife between his skilled fingers as Ian signals his intent onto the deserted pavement. "We're planning on him being there, but what if he's not?"

Sam shrugs as he fiddles with the strap on a machete filled thigh holster. "Then we'll try again." He stirs in his seat, an uneasy feeling blossoms in his stomach.

* * *

Jody paces in the hospital waiting room. Her forehead freshly stitched and Johnathan perched on her left hip.

"This is Sam's voicemail, you know what to do." _BEEEEP._

"Samuel Winchester, this is the fifth voice mail I've left. Where are you? Why is no one answering their phones?"

* * *

Dean casts a sideways glance at his fidgeting younger brother. "What's going on, man?"

Sam tucks some hair behind his ear. "I don't know."

"You hardly ever get nervous like this."

"Something doesn't feel right."

* * *

With a groan, Jody quickly dials Dean's phone only to be instantly greeted by his voice mail.

"You've reached Dean's other _other_ phone. Leave a message." _BEEEEP._

"Dammit, where are you guys. There was an accident and Sarah went into labor. I rode with the ambulance back to the crash. Dean, Ren's gone. I – I have Johnathan and I'm at the hospital but… I don't know where she is."

* * *

Dean claps his brother on the shoulder as the car maneuvers the rough terrain. "It'll be alright, Sammy. You'll see. We'll get the son of a bitch and we'll call the girls to turn around."

Bobby shifts in his seat, uncomfortable in the bullet proof vest Ian insisted everyone wear. "What's all the crying about back there?"

Sam clears his throat and sits straight. "Nothing."

* * *

Ian shifts the vehicle into park and holds a hand up to the passengers. "I'll deal with old man Miller. Give me five. I'm not out, you come in hot. Clear?"

Three men nod before Ian exits the vehicle and saunters towards the dilapidated building. His weapon is holstered but unfastened, hands held at shoulder height.

Bobby turns to face the younger men. "What's going on?"

Dean reaches up and grabs the shoulder straps of his vest. "Sammy's got a bad feeling."

"'Bout?"

The youngest Winchester runs a hand through his hair, tousling it even more than it already was. "Sarah, the girls. Something about this isn't sitting right."

"You… you aren't having any visions, are you, boy?"

Sam's head jerks up to meet the imploring gaze of his mentor. "No!"

"Ok, ok. I just askin'."

Silence falls thick between the men as they wait for Ian to emerge before the five minutes pass.

Just when they're about to throw open the doors, Ian stumbles out the front with a smirk playing at his lips.

The men meet halfway before Ian says anything. "He'll stay out of the way."

Bobby stares up at the detective. "What'd you do?"

"Just threatened him with some jail time."

"That's all?"

Ian meets Bobby's gaze with an arched brow. "You haven't seen his rap sheet. Lock and load boys. We got a vamp to kill."

* * *

Muscles are tight as I claw through the darkness. The concussion I received isn't making it any easier to wake up. Feet shuffling against the floor is the push I need and I'm suddenly hyper alert.

I try to move, to run away and hide, but for the second time in my life, I find myself strapped down; held against my will. I arch my back and grunt before I let loose a scream.

A hand is against my forehead. The skin is abnormally cool, clammy. "Calm down, Doctor."

One lone light hangs from a low hung ceiling and it's all I need to see who is talking. "Jack." His name leaves a bitter taste on my tongue. "What do you want?"

He smiles proudly. "A little birdie told me you figured me out."

"Who?"

Jack shakes his head and turns, running his fingers over something I can't quite make out. "I can't reveal all my secrets, yet."

I swallow hard at the bile as it rises in my throat. "Wh – where's Sarah?" The rest of the room is dark but that doesn't stop me from trying to scan it, searching for my friend.

"Your pregnant friend? Left her there. It wasn't her I wanted." Something metallic bumps the edge of something equally metallic. That sound is all too familiar.

A sob is next to be choked down. "What do you want, Jack?"

The dull light catches something in his hand when he turns to face me but I don't look. My eyes are fixed on his, void of life and full of hate. "I want you. Better yet, I want your blood."

* * *

Dean and Ian hang back while Sam and Bobby quickly work their way to the front. There's a silent count to twenty before they descend upon the pitch black house. The men are eerily quiet as they search the small cabin, it only has four rooms. The furnishings are minimal and there's no sign of anyone having ever lived here.

Dean storms to the fridge and all but rips the door off. There, the only sign of "life" was kept cool before consumption. A layer of homemade blood packets littered the top shelf.

Groaning with disgust, Dean turns to face the other men. "What now?"

Sam can't shake his nerves anymore. He digs for his cell phone. They had all turned off their ringers before they left and the weight of his grew heavier against his thigh with each passing minute.

Five missed calls. Five voice mails. "Shit."

* * *

Survival instinct takes over and I pull against the bonds on my wrists. The ropes bite further into my skin. "Why?"

Jack licks his bottom lip and it is all I can do to keep from throwing up all over myself. "Why not? Your blood is going to be… delicious."

The centuries old vampire pushes up the black tank top and reveals my stomach. There are no scars despite the amount of torture Crowley laid upon me. His eyes grow wide with anticipation. When I feel his hand grab at the button of my jeans, I whimper and try to move away from his unwanted touch.

"You hunters are all alike. Rough and tough when you have the upper hand. But put you in a place of vulnerability and you can't handle it."

The icy tone of his voice seems to only fuel the urgency with which I need to get away from him.

He's on me in the blink of an eye, straddling my hips. I give a shout but it's silenced by the back of his hand. The only sound in the room is the echoing slap.

My bottom lip is split, deep and I can feel a bruise already forming on my jaw.

"Sit still, you hunter bitch." His voice grows deeper, more animalistic.

* * *

Ian slams on the brakes. The tires squeal against the concrete parking lot of the hospital. All four men pile out and run in, not caring they're still dressed for a tactical assault.

Sam heads straight for the front desk, demanding to see the mother of his possibly premature child.

Ian follows suit, explaining the reason for the weapons and gear.

The nurse escorts Sam down the hall, still a little freaked out by his appearance.

Dean and Bobby rush into the waiting room where Jody is still pacing, Johnathan firm against her chest and sleeping soundly.

Jody breathes a sigh of relief at the sight of the men she's been trying desperately to get a hold of. "Where the _hell_ you boys been?"

Bobby cups her face in his wrinkled hands and winces sympathetically. "What happened?"

Jody stops swaying long enough for Dean to kiss his son on the head and run his fingers through the mess of strawberry blonde. "I don't really know. We were driving along when Ren gave a shriek, something was in the road. She swerved and hit a light pole. When we woke up, the SUV was upside down and Sarah was in labor. I walked into town and rode back with the ambulance. Sarah was there but Ren… she was gone. You think Jack got her?"

Dean works his jaw from the moment his lips left the feather soft hair of his son. Son of a bitch had the love of his life, the mother of his son and he had delivered her to him on a silver platter.

* * *

I feel my skin pull apart. The cut isn't deep but it's enough that the pain isn't immediate. The blade draws a line parallel with the top of my black lace panties. My eyes clamp shut when he bows down and runs his tongue along the beds of blood.

I can't stop the sob as it breaks past my lips.

He sits up and smacks his lips. The bright red is a stark contrast to his pale skin. "Mmmm, as good as I hoped."

"Jack?"

He squeezes his knees against my thighs and looks down at me through hooded lids. "Yes, my darling?"

I manage to hide my shudder, barely. "Why me? I know you like to drink the blood of pregnant women."

His bottom lip, coated in my blood, is sucked between his teeth where he swipes his tongue against the bitter liquid. "You're a smart one, aren't ya?"

I shrug my shoulders, never having been one to pat myself on the back.

"When a woman is first pregnant, her body treats the child as if it is a parasite and works hard to get rid of it. That does something to the blood, it changes the taste, makes it irresistible."

"B – but Sarah…"

His head tilts to the side like a puppy that heard a high pitched sound. "She's too far along. She might have more blood pumping through her veins but her blood is bland."

Confusion rolls through me until I start counting back the weeks in my head. "Son of a bitch."

"Congratulations. You're pregnant."


	12. Chapter 12

Sam's long fingers move gently over Sarah's engorged belly.

Currently clad in a thin hospital gown and a fetal heart monitor, Sarah is sleeping, not very peacefully. Sam's other hand is threaded with hers, a heart rate monitor on the tip of her middle finger and an IV needle taped to the back of her hand.

The doctors were able to stop the contractions but Sarah had already dilated to five. Too much, too soon. Their child was only 23 weeks. If Sarah could remain pregnant another seven weeks, the chances of survival increased drastically. Another two weeks would be ideal. Anything after that, the doctors would be happiest. But medicine would only last so long. Whatever Sarah's body wanted to do, all the medicine in the world couldn't stop it.

Sam stares helplessly at the mother of his child. The panic that blossomed in the pit of his stomach was quickly replaced by anger the moment he laid eyes on her. He wanted the vampire dead. Now he knew how Dean felt.

Sarah's hand twitches against his. A deep throated moan grows in volume as she shifts against the hospital bed.

Sam watches her struggle to wake up. Reaching up, he tucks a lock of hair behind her ear.

Even before her eyes are open, she leans into his touch. "Sam?"

A soft smile pulls at his lips when their eyes meet. "Hey, baby."

"Wh – where am I?"

Sam pushes gently against Sarah's shoulders as she tries to sit up. "You're in the hospital. Don't you remember?"

Small hands fly to her swollen stomach. It's not until she feels her unborn child kick that Sarah releases the breath she unknowingly held. "Is she… ok?"

Placing his hand against Sarah's, Sam smiles ruefully. "She's perfect."

"Then what's wrong, Sam?"

"You went into labor and dilated to 5. The doctors were able to stop the contractions."

"I hear a but coming."

"But, you need to be on bed rest until it's time to deliver."

Sarah huffs as her head falls back against the pillow. "Bed rest. How long is 'until I deliver?'"

Sam shrugs a large shoulder. His calloused thumb sweeps against the back of Sarah's hand. "Until you get the all clear from the doctors is my guess."

With the memory of what happened forming in Sarah's mind, she pulls in a ragged breath. "What about Jody and Johnathan?"

"They're at home. They're ok. Uninjured, for the most part."

"What about Ren? Oh, God, Sam. He took her. Jack took Ren."

Sam presses a kiss against Sarah's cheek. "We'll find her."

The stubble on Sam's cheek brushes against Sarah's lips as she returns the kiss. "Promise?"

"You know Dean. Come Hell or high water, we'll find her."

* * *

With Johnathan fast asleep in bed and Jody nursing her shoulder, Dean and Bobby stare at another map.

"I'm not seeing anything, Bobby." Dean all but growls, grinding out each word with anger and frustration.

Bobby rests a hand on the younger man's shoulder. "We'll find her, kid, don't worry."

Dean rolls his eyes before running hand along his face. "Don't worry? How can I not worry? A vampire serial killer has her."

The older hunter opens his mouth to speak but is interrupted by the ringing of his cell phone. "Yeah?"

"So I did a little digging. Ok, a lot of digging."

Bobby presses a button on his phone. "Garth, you're on speaker. What's goin' on?"

The faint clicking of a keyboard chases Garth's words. "Turns out Jack rented more than just the cabin you raided. There's another property, even more vacant than the last, if that's possible."

"Where is it?" Dean's hands ball into fists.

Garth sighs. "It's ten miles from the car crash. But… I gotta warn you, there's no building."

It's Dean's turn to sigh. "What do you mean, no building?"

"Just that. There's nothing on radar. I think he's underground."

Dean swears harshly under his breath.

"I'm sorry, man, but I don't have much more than that."

Bobby pulls off his cap. "What about that infra-red thing you were goin' on about last week?"

"Tried that. There's too much other wildlife out there to get a real reading." The tapping stops and Garth goes quiet. "I wish I knew more."

"Can you keep trying, at least?"

"Sure, Dean. I'll text you the coordinates of the property, ok?"

"Thanks Garth."

"Hey, Dean?"

"Yeah?"

"Rip his head off, ok?"

Dean chuckles gently. "You got it, man."

With the phone placed in his back pocket, Bobby sets the cap atop his head. "What's the plan, kid?"

Dean's phone chimes, the coordinates from Garth. Nervousness dances along his spine. Bursting into a house, he could do that blindfolded after being spun in a circle fifty times. But underground? With a vampire? That complicates things.

"Well, Sam's at the hospital with Sarah, I don't want to interfere with that. Jody's not in any shape and I need someone to stay with Johnny."

"That leaves me and Ian." Bobby crosses his arms against his belly.

Dean's brows knit together as an idea forms in his mind. He's quick to pull up Garth's number and connects the call.

"Winchester, what can I do for you?"

"You said the infra-red couldn't pick up anything because of the wildlife?"

Garth taps almost wildly at the keyboard. "Yeah. Deer, would be my guess. They're all over."

"What about lack of wildlife?"

"I'm sorry, what?"

Bobby looks at Dean quizzically. "What you thinkin'?"

"You won't get any heat readings off Jack, he's a vampire."

Garth sucked in a breath through his teeth. "So if I look for a cold reading –"

"You should find the son of a bitch."

Bobby and Dean listen while Garth recalculates the infra-red program he had installed the week before and sure enough, he finds a cold spot.

Garth lifts both arms in the air. "Yahtzee!"

"Where are they?"

"About half mile in from the West. They're underground though, pretty deep by the looks of it."

Another idea hits Dean like a ton of bricks. "That's alright. I got something up my sleeve. Thanks Garth."

The call is disconnected before Garth can respond.

Bobby watches as Dean darts out of the room and pounds up the stairs. Footsteps echo above Bobby as he stares curiously at the ceiling.

Dean descends the stairs two at a time. Gripped tight in his hand is a shirt Ren had worn the day before.

He shoots the older man a wink before turning on his heel and pushing out the back door. Running at full speed, Dean quickly reaches the perimeter.

Mithra pushes off the ground and stares hard at the hunter. He feels the wide gaze of the Hell beast drag over him. 

The shirt is held out and Mithra stares at it with a tilt of her massive head.

"She's gone, Mitrha. Ren's been taken and I need your help. Can you find her?"

From the moment the word "gone" was spoken, Mithra growls low in her throat. She gives a quick howl, beckoning the other Hell beast to join her.

The ground shakes as Ember runs through the woods. Joining his sister, they share a series of low growls and whines.

"Please?" Dean pushes the shirt closer to the beasts.

Both Hell beasts take their turns inhaling Serenity's scent. Turning their noses to the sky, they walk around for a series of heartbeats before both beasts signal they found the scent.

With the fur on the back of her neck standing at attention, Mithra emits a low howl and snorts loudly as Bobby stops next to Dean.

"This is your idea, Dean?"

"You got anything better, old man?"

Bobby chuckles softly. "No, just wish I'd thought of it. What next, kid?"

"Call Ian, tell him to meet us here. We'll need to gear back up. We're going hunting."


	13. Chapter 13

_"When a woman is first pregnant, her body treats the child as if it is a parasite and works hard to get rid of it. That does something to the blood, it changes the taste, makes it irresistible."_

_"B – but Sarah…"_

_His head tilts to the side like a puppy that heard a high pitched sound. "She's too far along. She might have more blood pumping through her veins but her blood is bland."_

_Confusion rolls through me until I start counting back the weeks in my head. "Son of a bitch."_

_"Congratulations. You're pregnant."_

I don't know about you, but this isn't exactly the way I want to find out I'm pregnant. The urge to protect my unborn child makes my stomach churn. I glare at the vampire atop me. "You're going to die."

Jack sneers through blood soaked lips. "We'll see how much longer you stand by that statement."

"Apparently you don't know who you're dealing with."

The scalpel cuts deeper, drawing dark red blood. Jack all but moans with excitement. "Don't know, don't really care. I'm gonna drain you dry, darling." His accent is sickeningly thick.

There is a chill to his voice that sets my teeth on edge. I hiss at the feel of his tongue as it probes deep into the cut. "Trust me when I say, you'll care, Jack. Right before Dean Winchester cuts your head off."

Jack stills at the mention of Dean's name. He looks up at me, his face still level with my lower stomach. "Dean Winchester, you say? Now that is interesting."

 _Uh oh._ "Interesting how?"

"There's a bounty on Dean Winchester. Dead or alive, preferably dead."

 _Double uh oh._ "You think you're the first one to go after Dean? The path to him is littered with the dead. Demons, witches, ghosts, shape shifters, Leviathan, werewolves, Angels and _vampires_. All have risen up against him and all have failed. You think he's scared of _you_? You think you will be the one to bring him down? Please! You're nothing. You're less than nothing –," a fist silences me.

Jack shakes with anger as blood from a tear in my cheekbone drips off his knuckles. "You talk too much. I don't want to hear your meaningless words. I want to hear you scream!"

I can't help but honor his request. In less than the time it takes me to blink, his mouth is on my stomach. I hear and feel him suck the blood from my veins, killing me and my unborn child.

* * *

Mithra and Ember slide to a stop, grass and dirt flying up in large clumps. The beasts growl anxiously as Dean slides off the shoulders of Mithra. His weapon is drawn before his feet hit the ground noiselessly, green eyes scanning the property. Mithra huffs impatiently, nudging Dean's shoulder with her large nose.

"You're sure this is it?" With his weapon against his thigh, Dean points to the ground with his free hand.

If a beast of Hell could arch an eyebrow, Mithra would doe so. Razor sharp claws dig into the ground as her eyes narrow. A low throated growl fills the void between human and beast.

"Alright. Garth said they're deep so start digging. I'm gonna check for a door, make sure this bastard doesn't get away." Dean pulls out his flashlight and starts running, scouring the ground for any sign of disturbance. If there's a possibility of Jack escaping, Dean wants to destroy it before it becomes a problem.

The hunter approaches a suspicious looking pile of chopped wood and notices a barely covered hatch. Careless signs of disturbance is enough confirmation for Dean. Cursing under his breath, he jogs back to the beasts just as Ian and Bobby pull to a stop on their four wheelers.

Bobby had put up a hell of a fuss when Dean brought up the idea of riding the beasts.

_"_ _No way, kid. I ain't riding one of them."_

_"_ _They're faster than any vehicle, Bobby."_

_"_ _No means no. Back me up, Ian."_

_Ian shakes his head. "Gotta say I agree with the old man."_

_"_ _Hey!"_

_"_ _Sorry, mate… I agree with Bobby. I'd rather be attacked by a honey badger, naked, than ride one of them."_

_The beasts growl impatiently._

_"_ _Forget it. I'll ride Mithra and meet you guys there." Dean didn't even wait to see what vehicles the others would choose. His mind was on Serenity. He was going to save her._

Dean smirks as he holsters his gun. "Told you it was faster."

Bobby shakes his head as he dismounts. "I never disagreed with you, kid."

"What'd you find?" Ian nods towards the direction Dean ran from.

"There's a hatch about a quarter mile that way, barely covered by a wood pile. I'm guessing that's what Jack used. I didn't go in, didn't want to give him a sign we were onto him."

Ian pulls out a grenade from a hidden pocket. "What do you say, Bobby? Wanna go blow something up?"

Layers of dirt fly through the air, the beasts almost completely hidden in a large hole. Dean nods at the men. "Go, we got this area. I'll radio once we're about to break through."

Both men climb onto the four wheelers and take off to the hatch.

Dean watches as more dirt and rocks fly through the air until Mithra pokes her head up, shaking off the dirt and dust from her fur. She snorts loudly while Ember shakes from the adrenaline.

"You guys ready?" Both beasts nod. Dean drops into the deep hole and feels it give slightly beneath his feet. With his finger against his earpiece, he speaks clearly. "Light it up in 30."

Machete in one hand and pistol in the other, Dean nods at the beasts. "Get me in there and if I don't kill him, you tear him apart." Both beasts growl deep as their paws push into the dirt.

Dean falls through, landing on his feet behind a veil of dirt and dust. Both weapons are raised as his eyes fall to the vampire.

Wide, dead eyes meet the hunter's deadly gaze. Smiling wickedly, Jack pulls himself up, straddling the woman beneath him. "Dean Winchester, I presume."

Serenity is pale, but far from dead. There's still a slight blush in her cheeks. She rolls her head back and smiles at the father of her children.

Dean shoots a wink her way before leveling the centuries old with a cold stare. "Jack, wish I could say it's nice to meet you."

Jack slides off the table, dragging his hand through the deep cut. He licks the blood from his fingers slowly, deliberately. "But it is so very nice to meet you."

Dean adjusts his grip on the machete. Before he can speak, there's a loud explosion behind Jack. The dark hall lights up before collapsing in on itself. Dust and debris explode into the room.

When Dean turns his head the slightest, Jack pounces with an inhuman snarl.

Serenity screams as the pair tumble to the ground.

Dean's gun falls away as he's driven to the ground by a shoulder. The hunter grunts at the impact.

Jack's teeth are inches away from Dean's neck as he snarls, desperate to rip the human's throat out. The pair roll on the ground, each one trying to gain the upper hand and succeeding at preventing the other from doing just that.

Dean drives the machete into the stomach of Jack, using that small amount of momentum to rise from the dirt.

The blade is withdrawn, caked in black ooze that was once red blood. Jack is quick to recover and pounces again. Punches and kicks are thrown by man and vampire. Most hit their mark while some are blocked.

Dean gains the upper hand after a surprise roundhouse kick. He uses the small window of opportunity and drives the blade through Jack's shoulder.

Jack just smiles as his hand wraps around the blade and pulls it deeper into body. "I'm a little disappointed, Winchester. You can't kill me like this."

With a sneer, Dean winks at the vampire. "No, but they can."

A large paw shoots through the hole and rips the vampire out of the room. There's a primal scream full of fear before a several loud rips and pops, and suddenly, it's silent.

A head bounces on the ground at Dean's feet.

* * *

**12 weeks later**

Mary Ellen Winchester is fast asleep in her father's arms. The little bundle of pink is further dwarfed by the size of Sam. The house is silent, save for the soft snores of a child we were afraid might be here too soon.

I kick my legs onto the table and rest them next to Sam. "How's it going, daddy?"

There's a look of pure contentment on his face that I recognize from his brother. "Perfect. How are you?"

On instinct, I place my hand against the small bulge in my lower stomach. "Much better. Doctor wants to keep a close eye on her since I had lost so much blood."

"Understandable." His eyes are drawn to his daughter when she hiccups in her sleep.

"How's Sarah?"

"Better now that she can sleep in her own bed. Tired, of course."

"Of course."

We sit in almost silence until the incoherent babbles of my son are heard descending the stairs.

Dean balances Johnathan on his hip expertly. He stands next to the couch while Johnathan reaches out with wriggling fingers. "Mamamamama."

Standing, I happily accept the squirming toddler. "Hello, baby. You have a good nap?"

He sighs into my neck, his fingers wrapping in my hair.

Dean leans down, kissing me firmly as his hand rests against my stomach; his thumb sweeping against the firm skin. "This is going to be a very loud house."

"And I wouldn't have it any other way."


End file.
